


Famous Last Words

by atc74writesSPN



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fighting, Minor Character Death, Prison, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 09:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17057057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atc74writesSPN/pseuds/atc74writesSPN
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N Padalecki wrote a feature story on serial killer Michael James White after he was arrested and sentenced. Now he wants an audience with Y/N before his execution date. Is that really all there is to it? Maybe, but she won’t be going alone.





	Famous Last Words

**Author's Note:**

> As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

“I just got a call from the warden at the French M. Robertson Unit up in Abilene. It seems inmate Michael James White would like to have a word with you,” Jared gestured for Y/N to take a seat.

Michael James White was convicted the previous year for raping and killing three women in the Dallas area. The story went worldwide and Y/N was the lead reporter for the Austin Herald. Jared hadn’t wanted her on the story at all, and for good reason; the three women he raped and murdered prior to his capture, could have been her sisters. Y/N had talked him into letting her run with the story.

_“Jared, this is the story of a lifetime,” she had argued with him. “This is my chance to prove that I can cover more than art shows and county fairs! You’re a journalist, too, Jare. Would you have passed on the story just because someone didn’t want you to write it? Because someone thought it would be too dangerous?”_

_“No, you’re right. But I don’t have to like it, Y/N,” Jared pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not just a journalist on assignment, here. You’re also my wife. It’s my job to protect you, not just as your husband, but also as your boss.”_

_“Baby, I know you worry about me, and I love you for it. You told me once that one of the many reasons you fell in love me with was my fierce independence. Now that we’re married, that hasn’t changed and I will always come home to you every night, but I am writing this story, Jare,” she said adamantly. “I have to live my own life, too. I’m not just Jared Padalecki’s wife; I am Y/N Y/L/N Padalecki, award winning journalist and wife extraordinaire.”_

_“You got the wife extraordinaire right, but award winning?” Jared smirked. “You get that covering art shows and county fairs?”_

_“I will be after this story,” she corrected him._

_“Fine, but I am hiring a **bodyguard** until this all blows over,” Jared conceded, knowing he never had a chance of talking her out of it._

“His execution date is next week. What do you think he wants to talk about?” Y/N walked around Jared’s desk, leaning up against the edge, next to where he sat in his chair.

“Probably looking for a Hail Mary to save his ass,” Jared looked up at you. He still wasn’t comfortable with her on this story. He thought it was in the past, but the past just came knocking.

“I’ll call the warden and make arrangements,” she acknowledged, sliding across the edge of the desk and in front of her husband. “Jare, it’s going to be okay, baby.”

“Will you please take Jensen with you?” He looked up at her with the puppy dog eyes she fell in love with and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll call him, too,” she smiled. “Now, come ‘ere.” Her hands reached for him and she rolled his chair right in front of her.

Jared wrapped his long arms around her slender waist, his cheek pressed up against her bosom. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, cradling him to her. She knew sometimes he needed comfort, the anxiety getting to him.

~*~

“Babe? Jensen’s here. I’m heading out,” Y/N called, walking into the kitchen.

Jared was seated at the island, a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked up as she entered the room.

“Please be safe. Please check in with me frequently. Please let Jensen take care of you if needed,” Jared’s voice was soft as he met your eyes.

“I promise all of those things,” she leaned in and kissed him softly, her lips lingering on his. He tasted of coffee and toothpaste. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he echoed and watched her walk away.

~*~

“He just worries, Y/N,” Jensen finally spoke thirty minutes into the drive to Abilene.

“I know he does, Jay, but it’s like he can’t let this go,” Y/N retorted, looking her friend slash  **bodyguard** in the eye. “I am not some delicate flower that’s going to wilt the minute someone looks at me.”

Jensen Ackles had been a star quarterback in high school and college, but an injury sidelined any professional career he had dreamed of pursuing. He had fallen back on his degree in Criminal Justice and Forensic Psychology, applying to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and becoming the youngest profiler in the history of the Behavioral Sciences Unit. After several years, the job became too draining for him and he retired, returning to Austin.

He was now an independent consultant and contracted with several police departments as well as the Texas Rangers. He also happened to be best friends with her husband and she loved him like a brother. Jared had hired Jensen when Y/N had written the story, staying by her side, until White had been moved to death row at Robertson.

“Y/N, I have studied this man from the minute the first body was found. I worked with the Rangers to bring this guy in and I don’t like it either. White is a narcissistic psychopath; he felt no guilt, no remorse over raping and killing those women. And those are just the ones we were able to pin on him,” Jensen recounted the facts of the case. “We also thought he had a partner, but we couldn’t prove that.”

“I can take care of myself, Jay,” Y/N argued. “You taught me well.”

“I know you can. All I’m saying is this makes me uncomfortable,” Jensen acknowledged.

“He’s getting the needle next week. What more could he have to say at this point?” she challenged.

“Oh plenty. A guy like this? It’s all about him, not the women he killed or the families he destroyed. He truly thinks he is the victim and the world has somehow wronged him,” Jensen continued. “My profile is spot on; he is a narcissistic sociopath with misogynistic tendencies. This meeting he wants? It’s no different, Y/N. That is why he wants to see you. The narcissist in him wants to go out with a bang and he wants you to light the fuse.”

“Jay, I was the only one that listened to him after his arrest. That’s why he requested to see me,” Y/N reasoned. “That’s all.”

“In any case, I am not leaving your side the entire time we’re inside,” Jensen declared. “You are exactly his type. Let’s just call it a gut feeling that something ain’t sitting right with this whole thing.”

“Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N Padalecki,” a short, stocky man with a bolo tie met her at the front gate. “I’m Warden Wilcox. Welcome to French M. Robertson prison.”

“You can call me Y/N. This is my friend, Jensen, who my husband insisted accompany me today,” she smiled as they shook hands.

“Agent Ackles, it’s a pleasure to meet you! I read your profile on White. It’s quite revealing,” Wilcox said enthusiastically.

“It’s not Agent anymore, Warden,” Jensen greeted the man, a tight lipped smile on his face.

“Alrighty then,” the warden clipped. “Let’s get this over with shall we?” He ushered both Y/N and Jensen inside. They entered the first security checkpoint where the guard relieved Jensen of his weapon and secured it in a locker with two keys; one was given to Jensen while the guard kept the other. Y/N’s bag was checked, but all it contained was her wallet, a small recording device, a legal pad and a few pens. They were cleared to enter the facility and were lead through two more checkpoints before they were lead to a meeting room normally reserved for an inmate and their attorney. The warden escorted them through the prison thus far. A total of ten minutes had passed since they left the first checkpoint.

Jensen had observed every face, name badge, camera and door from the moment they entered. The door they stood outside of had one camera pointed at the door itself and he saw at least two more inside the room, covering it from different angles. The red lights were blinking, indicating that all three were in working order, as had the others he had seen as well. That had eased some of the apprehension he had the moment Jared had called, but not enough to make him feel better about the whole thing.

“Jenkins, you don’t let anyone in this room unless it’s me. Mr. Ackles and Mrs. Padalecki are the only ones to be let in and let out. Got that?” Wilcox addressed the guard that was stationed outside the visiting room.

“Yes sir, Warden,” Jenkins nodded in agreement. He was a tall, lithe fellow with thinning reddish brown hair and a sparse mustache covered his upper lip. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person Y/N pictured as a prison guard, but perhaps he had hidden skills that no one but the warden was aware of.

Jensen eyed Jenkins as he had the same thoughts as Y/N. Whatever relief he had felt about the cameras faded away when he came face to face with the guard.

“Please let our visitors in,” the warden spoke loud and clear so the guard in the control room could hear him. A buzzer went off and with a loud click, the door popped open.

Warden Wilcox entered the room, addressing the prisoner. “White, here are the rules. No touching, no standing. Y/N, Mr. Ackles, you will not hand the prisoner anything, nor will you take anything from the prisoner. She is here at your request and you will not disrespect her in any way. Her friend here, Mr. Ackles, is here for her safety and will stay in the room with her at all times. He has my explicit permission to restrain you in any way he deems appropriate should you violate these rules or any he gives you on the spot. Since Y/N Y/L/N Padalecki is not your attorney, video and sound will remain operational. Do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, Warden Wilcox. I am the one that asked for an audience with her, why would I do anything that might jeopardize that, sir?” White looked up at the warden, a look on his face somewhere between a smile and a sneer. It did not sit well with Jensen.

The warden turned back to Jensen and Y/N. “Feel free to make your way to my office when you’re finished here.” The warden walked out of the room, shutting it behind him with a click.

“So, why am I here, Mr. White?” Y/N took a seat at the table, holding her bag tightly with both hands, her chair more than a foot from the table.

White glared at Jensen who remained standing, his back to the door, before turning his attention to Y/N. “Y/N, we spent so much time together already. Please, call me Michael.”

Michael James White had been compared to Ted Bundy by numerous news organizations. He was tall, well built and attractive. He had lured his female victims with his charm, then beat them into submission, after which he raped, tortured, and murdered them in cold blood.

Y/N had spent some time with him, yes, but that didn’t mean she liked it. He made her skin crawl and they way he was looking at her now made her feel like his last meal. Maybe, technically, she was. He was being executed in less than seven days and she is the last person he would see from the outside before his death.

Jensen quietly stood in the corner of the room. He had a view of the door, White and Y/N from his vantage point. The feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away, it only continued to gnaw at him as he watched White leer at Y/N like she was a piece of meat.

“Just tell me why I am here,” Y/N demanded, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Because, you were the one that told the world my story and now we’re going to finish it. I want everyone to know what has happened to me since I arrived here and how I am going to go down in history with the likes of Bundy and Ridgway. I’ll be a legend.”

“I never agreed to that. I am not going to glorify what you did. Your victims deserve peace, their families deserve peace. We’re done here,” Y/N stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Jensen, can we go?”

Jensen moved from the corner to Y/N’s side, but before he could turn and signal the guard, Jenkins was through the door. He raised his baton and caught Jensen along the side of his head.

Jensen stumbled back before he regained his footing, but it was enough time for Jenkins to restrain Y/N and toss White his keys. He quickly assessed the situation, running through all scenarios in his head as he watched White uncuff himself from the table. None of them ended well.

“White, hold on a minute and think about this. You’re in a maximum security prison with only one ally. Do you really think you’re going to make it out of here alive? Either of you?” Jensen looked between White and Jenkins. He locked his eyes on Y/N and saw the sheer look of terror in them. Jenkins had her arms behind her back and his baton across her throat, pressing just hard enough that she was struggling to breath. He nodded once, hoping she understood he was telling her it was going to be okay. They would be okay.

“You tell me, Mr. Profiler. You’re the reason I’m in here; You’re the one that profiled me, but you missed something, didn’t you?” White sneered as he walked around the table bolted to the floor, coming to a stop just in front of Jensen. “Missed the partner, Mr. Profiler Man.”

Jensen didn’t back down and kept a calm exterior, not letting White see his concern, his fear. “No, I knew you did. We just couldn’t prove it. What I gotta ask though is, why Jenkins? Surely a man with your intelligence, your social stature and good looks didn’t need a partner. Plus, Jenkins is below you. So you tell me why.”

“Honestly, Jenkins was a patsy, still is. I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you. What no one knows, not even Jenkins, is there were twelve other women before the last three. You’ll never find their bodies.” White took another step into Jensen’s personal space.

“What the hell Mike? You told me I was helping you! You gonna hang me out to dry now?” Jenkins was visibly upset and he yelled at White, scaring Y/N even more as the baton pressed harder into her throat.

Just as White turned to Jenkins, alarms sounded throughout the prison. The sound startled the guard just enough that Jensen was able to reach out and pull Y/N behind him, pushing her into the corner out of the way. The force of him pulling her away tore the bag from her body, and it laid at Jensen’s feet.

“You were supposed to turn off the camera’s you imbecile!” White shouted, lunging at Jenkins, knocking him to the floor, his fists connecting with the guards face repeatedly.

Jensen grabbed the bag and rushed to Y/N’s side in the corner. “Are you okay?” His eyes running over her body, checking for any injuries.

“I-I’m okay,” she breathed out, her voice raspy from the pressure against her windpipe. She rubbed at the red skin on her neck.

“Do not move from this spot. You hear me?” Jensen ordered her as he ripped open the lining of her bag and reached his hand inside. He pulled out what appeared to be a white knife and slipped it inside his left boot. “Stay here.” He turned and moved back toward the two men.

Jenkins’ face was covered in blood and so was White as he continued to pummel him, sitting on his body. “White! That’s enough!” Jensen approached the prisoner and that got White’s attention.

He stopped his assault to face Jensen, his eyes wide, crazy and his face covered in blood. “Oh, it’s your turn pretty boy. By the time they get to me, I can add three more to my body count, making it eighteen total.”

“Go ahead and try it. You’ll be dead before you hit the ground,” Jensen challenged him.

“Jensen, no!” Y/N screamed the corner, terrified for her friend, for herself.

Jensen’s mind was still counting down the time. Four minutes. Four minutes since Jenkins burst through the door, grabbing Y/N and releasing White. Two minutes since the alarm sounded. The walk to the room had taken ten minutes. That means it would be a minimum of at least three more minutes until anyone came to assist him. Three minutes was all he needed.

“White, I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. The cameras are still rolling and anything you try is being recorded and any action I take against you will be in self defense. Why don’t you just sit back down and let me cuff you to the table and we all go our separate ways, until I come back next week to watch them stick a needle in your arm?” Jensen was purposely taunting White, walking back and forth in front of him, keeping himself between Y/N and danger.

“I’d rather you just kill me now,” White declared, staring Jensen down, his eyes ablaze with fury.

“Just gimme a reason, you fucking dirtbag,” Jensen readied himself for attack, and not a moment too soon.

White pounced like a cougar going after his prey. Jensen was prepared and threw him to the ground, but White didn’t stay down. He got back up and tried again. He stepped closer and closer until he was within arms reach of his would be victim. White reeled back and put all of his weight behind the blow, hitting Jensen square in the jaw.

Reaching out with one hand, he gained purchase on White’s prison jumpsuit and stumbled. Bracing himself on his right leg, he pulled his arm back and landed a jab to his opponent’s kidney. White doubled over, giving Jensen an opening. He brought his right leg up and straight into White’s nose. The crack resounded through the small room, blood gushing from his face.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” White screamed, sidestepping Jensen and making one final attempt at victory, he lunged toward Y/N still huddled in the corner.

Jensen reached down and with one swift move, removed the homemade knife from his boot. He swung upwards, catching the blade in the fleshy meat of White’s inside thigh. The killer dropped to the floor, a crimson puddle forming beneath him.

“This isn’t the way it was supposed to end…” White whispered his last words as he bled out on the prison floor.

“Famous last words, asshole,” Jensen muttered as he shoved the bloodied knife back in his boot. 

The door burst open and guards flooded the room, followed by a very out of breath and red-faced warden.

“What in tarnation happened here?” Warden Wilcox shouted as he approached White’s lifeless body.

“If we can move this to your office, Warden, I would be happy to explain it or you can watch the video,” Jensen acknowledged the man before reaching for Y/N.

“Come here, I got you,” Jensen lifted her off the floor and wrapped her in his arms.

Thirty minutes later, Y/N was calmly seated, a strong tumbler of scotch in one hand, courtesy of the warden.

“I can’t believe he was fool enough to try something like that. And on camera no less!” Wilcox was dumbfounded.

“He was a desperate man, Warden. You shouldn’t dare a man that has nothing left to lose, but I did,” Jensen reasoned. “It was the only move I had. Your guards wouldn’t make it before something worse happened. I took a chance and in the end only one life was lost.”

“Wasn’t really a loss now was it, son?” The warden clicked his tongue at the makeshift  **bodyguard**. “I’ll be closing his death as accidental. You won’t be hearing from us again.”

“If I do, it will be too soon,” Jensen stood and shook the warden’s hand.

With Y/N safely in the passenger seat, Jensen put his car in drive, leaving the prison in the dust kicked up by his tires. Y/N hadn’t spoken a word since the incident in the room, but with a pursed lip she turned to Jensen.

“Why was there a knife in my bag and when did you put it there?” She questioned her friend.

“Last night after you went to bed. I stayed a little while and I slipped it in there before I left,” Jensen replied, his eyes never leaving the road.

“Why?” she asked again.

“Because I knew wouldn’t be allowed to keep my gun on me and without knowing all the variables, I wasn’t walking into a room with a convicted killer and my best friend’s wife without some protection. I made the knife myself; it’s animal bone and doesn’t raise any alarms,” Jensen responded passionately.

“You planned this whole thing out, didn’t you? You and Jared?” She pushed.

“Y/N, I told you I didn’t like it from the moment you brought it up. I wasn’t going in unprepared. Jared didn’t know about the knife either. I didn’t want him to worry anymore than he already was,” his words were short and clipped.

“I’m sorry I questioned you. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, both of you, when you told me this was a bad idea. You saved my life today, Jensen. Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’ll do anything to protect my family, Y/N,” Jensen reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.


End file.
